#snz writing

[sammysnz]

Thinking about a man with a pollen allergy in a wedding party. He’s all dressed up, matching all his friends as they stand around and share memories about the groom before the ceremony. The abundance of flowers in the venue are starting to get to him, but he took an allergy pill, he prepared for this. He sniffles and wipes his nose on the back of his hand. It’s getting itchy, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. He starts telling a story about the groom in college but has to pause mid sentence, turn his back to the group, and stifle a double into his palm. hih’gntx—chiEW.

The little flowers in his jacket pocket are not helping. He considered asking to wear a pocket square instead, but then he would have been the only one, and he really didn’t want to make a big deal about this. But now that he’s here, walking up to the front of the room where he’s expected to stand silently and watch an entire wedding ceremony, it seems like he could have made a slightly bigger deal about it.

His sinuses are on fire. The ceremony doesn’t seem close to done — wow these vows are long — and he’s not sure he’s going to make it. He’s been on the verge of a sneeze the whole time, taking slow, shallow breaths and twitching his nose up and down like goddamn kegels. It's started to run a little, and he dabs the drop as discretely as he can with his index finger.

Finally, the bride and groom kiss, the room bursts into a cheer, and he lets out three harsh sneezes into his sleeve. huh-tXIEW! ish-IEW! hehh-tchIEU! Wiping his nose with his other hand, he holds the soiled sleeve behind his back, careful not to let it graze his jacket or anyone else as they exit the venue. Those pocket flowers are going straight in the trash.

[farthertothemoon]

Silly Hunter Drabble

I'm not much of a writer, but I felt proud enough of this to share sooooo here ya go

"Hmph. Fuckin' cold out here." Arda sniffled, rubbing at her reddened and chapped nose. She winced as her rough fingers irritated the already sensitive skin.

"Yeah... these assignments are the worst," Morgan grumbled. "Why can't the scholars hire another team of hunters for this, why always us?"

The two forlorn hunters shuffled ahead of the research cart, snow crunching under their boots. The wind was whipping cruelly, buffeting the poor duo and their charges. Indistinct conversation could be heard from the research cart as the oil lamp inside the carriage cast a shifting light onto the snow ahead of it.

"I would love to be in there with them. Fuckin' nose is killing me," Arda muttered with another sniffle and wince.

Morgan tutted. "I told you to wear a mask, silly."

"I forgot. I'd just barely woken up," Arda huffed defensively. The woman looked miserable, her cheeks and nose cherry red, nostrils painfully raw. She tugged on her hood in a futile attempt to cover more of her head, making a sound akin to a growl when nothing changed.

Morgan looked on, amusement spreading across her face. "How's about some help?" she offered, reaching into her coat. The shorter hunter pulled out a small vial of healing jelly, waggling it in Arda's face.

The taller hunter blushed at the sight of the stuff. It was fuckin' embarrassing to have that shit applied, but it felt so, so good. She huffed. "Fine, just make it quick. I don't want anyone seein’."

Morgan chuckled, removing her left glove after popping the cap off the vial. She scooped out a bit of the jelly, reaching up towards Arda's trembling, red nose.

The taller woman looked apprehensive, occasionally glancing back towards the carriage. It was partially obscured by the howling wind whipping snow through the frigid air. 

Glancing back down towards Morgan, she was surprised to see and feel that the woman's finger was now pressed directly to the underside of her nose. Arda's eyes fluttered shut as the soothing jelly was rubbed into the raw skin around her wet nostrils.

"Ohhh... that feels so fuckin' goohH-!" Arda hitched, suddenly. "HhA'rrTSCHX-ooh!! EeeeSCHiiuUUhHh!!" She loosed a horrendously harsh double directly down into Morgan's "unsuspecting" face. Spray swirled and glistened in the whistling wind like a million tiny jewels reflecting a rainbow.

After a beat of stunned silence broken only by the distant creak of the carriage wheels, Arda broke out into apology. "Fuckin' shit, I didn't mean to... I'm sorry- shit, that's disgusting-" she stuttered as her face flushed in embarrassment.

Morgan cut her off with a giggle, gloved hand wiping her face clean. "Acting like that's the first time you've sneezed all over me. You should be used to it by now." The smaller woman smiled up at her mischievously as she wiggled her eyebrows.

"...Fuckin' freak," Arda muttered, looking away. With a huff and a sniffle, she turned on her heel and began trudging ahead without Morgan.

Giggling again, the smaller hunter followed after Arda. For the rest of the trip, a copious amount of muffled and distant "EhHdssCHMnph's!" and "hHa'TsCHuuWw's!!" could be heard over the wind from the warmly lit carriage.

[hehkshew]

I have this prompt idea:

Vox, having been around Valentino and Velvette, insists he’s fine and is not going to catch whatever cold ridden illness that they have. But by the end of the week, he’s now showing symptoms just as much as they were. Valentino smirks as Vox finally admits defeat. The three of them, Vel and Val now recovering slowly, resign themselves to a week together, each one blaming the other for starting it.

[Out Of Service] (H/azbin H/otel) V/ox, V/elvette, and V/alentino [1300 Words]

This week, it felt as if everything had been going wrong. The entire past few days had been fully manic. Even more so than the way it typically was. There were employees around every corner, worrying as they tried to keep up with the increased work load and requests.

Why they were all suddenly so panicked? Because it just so happened that two of three were bored. And when they were bored, shit got tense fast.

There was a lot to do and a lot to manage and to keep up with it, there was no time to get distracted. 

Which was why if Vox had half a mind he would’ve turned around, at the first sounds of a hacking cough. But he didn’t. 

Valentino laid sprawled across out on the couch, sunglasses hazardously laying dropped on the floor in the path of any unfortunate unfocused sinner who’d undoubtedly step on them. He looked pathetic, no trace of cocky appearance he usually displayed.

Other side of the couch Velvette looking pissed and utterly wrecked as she tiredly scrolled through her phone. Eyes half lidded, groaning quietly. 

He should’ve probably assumed that after hearing the sound of coughing ongoing randomly the past two hours.

They looked exhausted.

Val’s eyes drifted tiredly, widening a little as he pushed himself up with a smirk. Sniffling as he purred, voice a little too rough than normal.

“Amorcito!” He called low, grin widening as he blinked slow. The eye bags were practically visible from here, “I didn’t think you’d come, Baby.” He mused, Velvette glancing up from her phone before glancing away, sinking deeper into the blankets. “I feel awful.”

Vox narrowed his eyes slightly, eyebrows creasing as he breathed out, “Oh please, Val. You can handle a little cold.”

Valentino dramatically groaning as if he’d been betrayed, back of his hand to his forehead, which was noticeably sweating. “Ugh, heartless, Voxxy. Absolutely heartless.”

Velvett made a noise of annoyance, sniffling as she sunk deeper into her blankets, snapping her head down as she stifled a harsh sneeze into the blankets.

“Oh for Hell’s sake,” Vox groaned, making the gesture of pinching his screen, “Don’t tell me you’re sick too.”

Velvette only sniffled, shooting daggers as she spoke. Voice sounding more broken then Valentinos, grabbing a tissue box. One in one of those stupidly fancy cases as she chucked it at Valentino’s head, the moth making a pained “Oww..” whine.

“It’s his fault, I feel like shit.”

Val barking out a laugh, one that dissolved into a coughing fit, the sound rattling in his chest. “Doll, you did not get this from me. You were coughing before I was”

“This is totally all his fault, fucking infected everyone and now hes gonna make you miserable too.” She snapped, only half serious. rolling her eyes as she slumped deeper into the couch.

Vox scoffed somewhat amusedly at the two.

“I at least have a decent antivirus system.” That’s something he pointed out a lot, his excuse to work through things, something the two couch ridden overlords tried not to groan at, Vox shooting a glare back. “Unlike you two, I don’t get sick.”

Valentino coughed, sitting up as he hit at his chest, clearing his voice as he sniffed sharply, humming with almost a look of challenge. “We didn’t expect to get sick either Mi amado.”

“I’m not gross.” Vox challenged, ducking as Velvette threw the nearest object near her towards Vox’s head. “And I’m more efficient, I’m built to handle this.” He snapped.

The two weren’t convinced, Vox groaning as he stormed out and left. A look towards each other as if they knew.

“I don’t get sick.” He muttered. Something he continued to tell himself.

It was nearing the end of the week, and it was safe to say that something had changed.

Vox wasn’t uncaring, he’d been there. For them! Bringing them stuff every hour or so, a routine most likely used in a prison more than a caring nurse sort of way, but he was there every hour for a check in. To make sure they hadn’t died, or whatever.

They were still sick of course, but it wasn’t as bad now. That was… An improvement, and it was good!

And everything was fine…! And maybe he might’ve felt a little sluggish, and even when it was dead silent he could hear the sound of buzzing in his ears. But those were just quirks! Definite normal stuff he always had.

Computer shit!  

He tensed, screen flickering as he faltered. Lowering the clipboard he’d been holding, head snapping down harshly as he sneezed. Spark of electricity shooting as it zapped, wincing as the lights in the penthouse went out for just a moment. 

That was the downside about all of this, everytime that happened. It tended to affect anything electronic, and Much to Valentino and Velvette’s misery, their devices were no exception.

Inhaling sharply again as a second one overcame him. 

 “Hhh-HHK̴̬͉̬̮̗̝̓̑̕ͅS̴̜̥̞̰̟̈́̿̊̎̋͒̃̄̽ͅͅͅZ̶̮͓̬̗̣̝͗̃̀Z̴̧̠̫͙͔̬̲̦͕̣̋͘͜T̴̩̠̀͆̀̚!̷̧̡͈̖̗͇͓͇̳̏͆͠!!”

A surge of static zapping as another blue spark zapped, this time hitting Valentino in the chest. Moth Demon giving a sharp yelp as he involuntarily wrapped his wings around himself, an undignified tumble off of the couch.

“Voxxy, the fuck!” Valentino yelled, gray smoke rising from the zap in his jacket. Velvett pulling herself back as she brought her knees to her chest, intent on avoiding by being zapped by any of that.

“Not sick, huh?” Unamused, twinge of a grimace on her face as she watched his screen short circuit. 

“I’m not– hHHK̶̊̋͐̒̿͊͂́͜S̶̨̪̭͖̙̩̠̜̹̓̌ͅH̴̟̯̗̄ͅŹ̸̢͕̰̙̱̖̦͔Z̴̢͓͍̲͉̈͐̀̒Ţ̸̥͕̮̎̔!!” This time, the lights in the entire penthouse immediately blacking out into darkness.

“Yeah, real convincing.”

Vox groaned, looking as flustered as his expression was able to manage, arms crossed over himself as he pointedly ignored the inspecting looks he was receiving. Even he couldn’t argue against this one. Huffing as his screen glowed duller.

He did feel fucking wrecked.

With a heavy sigh, he slumped against the kitchen counter. “Fine. Fine. I have a cold.”

“Told you,” Velvette hummed, sniffling pleased to be right. She was always right.

“Welcome to the club Baby.” Val grinned widely, lifting his wing and blanket as invitation for Vox to join them under it. “Surprise, Tesoro. You’re not invincible.”

Vox shot him a withering glare, muttering as it lacked its sharpness. “Shut up.”

And with the admittance of all of them feeling horrible, they could feel horrible together. Remaining time being spent huddled together. And that’s how it was the next few days.

Arguments over who was worse, arguments over each other hogging blankets and arguments starting after every sneeze from Vox short circuited another one of their electronics.

“I can’t believe Velvette got us all sick.” Valentino muttered, biting back his grin as she sat up pissed off, Vox groaning as he pulled a pillow over his screen, knowing the argument to ensue.

“Me?! It was you, you were the one coughing over fucking everything. And I wash my hands constantly. Unlike you with both your fucking gross men piss fingers.” Grimacing with a shooted glare, burying further into them despite it.

Vox groaned, “Does it even matter? We’re all suffering now because one of you idiots couldn’t not be walking disease.”

Velvette sniffled weakly, head laid against Vox’s lap. “Let’s all just agree to blame Vox for electrocuting us every time he has a fit.”

Vox glared embarrassed, preparing to move up from the couch and leave. “I’m going to bed.” Valentino stopping him as he pulled him back down.

“Ah, ah, ah. You’re stuck with us.”

And he didn’t have room to argue, blinking tiredly as the movie on the screen began to play. The three watching with various levels of exhaustion. 

And it was nice.

“Hhh.. Hih.. hḰ̴̼Z̵̮̎Z̴̠͙̾H̷͇͊ͅT̵̪̔̽!̷̹̐̀” 

Velvette’s phone buzzing and flashing before going dead.

“Dammit Vox!” Velvette groaned, dropping the broken device onto the carpet.

“Whoops,” For the first time all day, barking out a laugh.

With the movie playing, they couldn't help the exhaustion overtaking them. Slowly breathing as they began to fall asleep, and for the first in a long time, together they could rest.

[dreamingroleplayer]

Thanks for existing plant girls/dryads who are covered in flowers and constantly release bursts of pollen, petals and allergens.

Thanks for existing women with long hair who feel to need to flip and toss it around and at people all the time.

Thanks for existing cuddly kitsune/catgirls with little concept of personal space and keen on shoving their ticklish tails in people's faces.

Thanks for existing women obsessed with makeup who can't help but accidentally spray their perfume or setting dusts in their partner's nose.

A sincere thanks to all of you, you are a fundamental part of humankind as a society and I'll always be the first to absolutely fold for you like mess I am 🫡

[whumpusgumpus]

GUYS!!! Formally meet my DND OC Konr/ad. featuring SNZCANONS🌸 I played him in my group’s previous campaign and am still playing him, but this is specifically abt his previous self cus he’s a lot diff now:)

🛡️Here r some basics before I get to the snz stuff

Mercenary fighter (battle master)

Lawful neutral

Human

Gender: male (he/him) Age: 26 Wt.:230lbs Ht: 6’

Stats: lvl5: Strength(20)>Dexterity>Wisdom>Charisma>Intelligence>Constitution(9)

Konr/ad's earliest memories are of relentless training in his mother’s yard, driven by Odilia's harsh determination to mold him into a strong and capable individual. Despite his frail health and constant exhaustion, Konr/ad endured grueling physical labor and rigorous training, pushing himself beyond his limits to meet her expectations. As Odilia's fortunes improved, she sought to provide Konr/ad with a better life, enrolling him in an academy where he struggled to fit in among the wealthy students. After being expelled for defending a friend, Konr/ad continued his physical training and took on work to support himself and his ailing mother. Following Odilia's sudden death, Konr/ad's grief led him to alcoholism and bar fights, where his formidable strength caught the attention of the Wings of Resolve mercenary guild. Joining the guild, Konr/ad quickly became a standout member, his incredible strength and resilience making him a key asset, though he remained unaware of the extent of his abilities and was often exploited by the guild leaders for their own gain. In this campaign, Konr/ad and a group of adventurers like himself fight a bloody war in the Feywild against impossible aberrants and save mankind, barely escaping with their lives.

Kk so now for the snz canons 😏

🛡️He’s immunocompromised, so he gets sick a LOT and gets hit HARD. When sick his sneezes sound more desperate, usually causing him to gasp before each one

🛡️He usually sneezes in singles because he gets a lot of fits. So they’re not actually singles, they’re just spaced out lol. When not having a fit it’s either singles or doubles.

🛡️His sneezes are surprisingly soft. It irritates him because no sneeze is truly satisfying.

🛡️His buildups look like this: he kinda just stares off into space with his lips slightly parted, then gasps.

🛡️His sneezes usually make no mess, and he covers with his fist. His buildups give him enough time to cover.

🛡️His eyes are bright teal so they’re sensitive, so the light definitely sets him off.

🛡️On a bad allergy day or when he’s sick he knows the mess is coming so he carries and handkerchief.

🛡️He has a very sensitive nose, especially cus it’s broken. He always has tho. Just rubbing his nostril the wrong way can cause him to sneeze or hitch.

🛡️He has mean seasonal allergies and sneezes so much sometimes to the point he gets comments on it. Ex. “You’re running out of bless yous”, “are you still going?” Etc.

🛡️He has fits almost every early morning in the spring, and scattered throughout the days during other seasons.

K that’s a lot super sorry but thank u for reading and I hope y’all enjoyed :)

[riverevanss]

Unexpected Company - Part 1

Fandom: The R/ings of P/ower Pairing: E/lrond P/eredhel, D/urin IV. - friendship for now Summary: D/urin has never met an Elf before. And now - after getting saved from a bunch of hills trolls - he's locked in a dusty house with one. A strange one, mind you, as the Elf, E/lrond, won't stop with his strange, annoying noises, which are unfamiliar to D/urin.

Durin has never met an Elf before. He, like every other Dwarf, was told stories about Elves being weird and interesting, creatures others should not interact with because they didn’t interact with others either. All his life, Durin thought Elves were distant and thought more about themself than they should have. 

Probably this was the case for some of them, but as Durin was watching the - not even that tall - Elf standing in front of him, smiling at him with concern in his eyes, the Dwarf prince could hardly believe anything that he heard from his father was true. This particular Elf looked so much more different than Durin imagined - not like he didn’t look pretty. Still, Durin always thought Elves were ethereal beauties, with glowing eyes, sharp, pointy ears, and judgemental stares.

“Are you okay?” Asked the Elf quietly. His voice was just like his face - pretty, but a little bit rough, like his throat was hurting, or like someone who didn’t speak for a long time. “You just keep staring at me like you have never seen an Elf before.” Said the stranger.

Durin almost laughed, but he didn’t say anything, just continued to stare at the Elf. The stranger had curly, dark brown, nearly black hair, eyes that looked like the most beautiful gray orb, and a shy smile on his lips. His cheeks were a little flushed like he was embarrassed, but Durin didn’t really blame him - after all, he kept staring at his slim form half hidden by his dark turquoise-gold cloak.

“You’re welcome,” said the Elf finally after a quiet cough, which made Durin shake himself to look at the stranger.

“What do ya mean you’re welcome?” Asked Durin, then looked behind himself, where lay three dead trolls. Oh, yeah, he was so busy staring at the Elf that he almost forgot about how they met… “Ya didn’t save me, I was handling the situation perfectly” added the Dwarf, and the Elf laughed.

“Of course, I can see that” smiled the stranger. “My name is Elrond” He offered, still smiling.

Durin was close to telling him to leave him alone, to go to hell or something, but the Dwarf couldn’t help himself, and also flashed a quick smile towards the Elf - Elrond, as he called himself.

“Durin,” He said.

***

It was quiet. Durin was sitting next to the fireplace that Elrond successfully got working, and stared out of the window. After their quick introduction, the Elf offered Durin a shelter next to the woods. According to Elrond, it was once built by humans, but now Elves use it sometimes when it is needed.

“We don’t really come here, so it’s quite… dusty” added Elrond. He was watching Durin from next to the fireplace. The rain was still hitting against the window, and the dark was sometimes broken by lighting that followed the occasional thunder. It was a huge storm outside.

“Aye” nodded Durin, looking around. He was still hesitant about talking to the Elf, after all, he didn’t even know him. But he looked kind. Nice, even. “Dwarves don't really care about dir…”

“He’gnxt” 

Durin froze, then turned around to look at Elrond. For a moment he was confused and reached for his axe hearing the unfamiliar noise, something he had never heard before. But it came from Elrond, undoubtedly, because as Durin looked at him, he repeated the same strange noise. This time, it sounded a little bit different.

“Heh… he’gnxts”

The Dwarf stared at the Elf. Elrond’s fair face looked a little confused, he was looking towards the fire, with cloudy eyes, lips half parted. His nose wriggled, like he was smelling something uncomfortable, then he took a sharp inhale, and squeezed his eyes shut. He ducked his face in his left elbow, and then…

“Heh’gnxht… h’ETSHIEW” 

Durin jumped at the second sound, because while the first… well, three times the noises coming from the Elf were quiet, the fourth was quite loud, which gave a Dwarf a little scare. 

“Excuse me,” said Elrond quietly, and his face was now definitely flushed from embarrassment. 

“Excuse… what exactly?” asked Durin, confused, looking at the Elf. “What the hell are those�� Please tell me you’re not dying or something like that” he added, raising his eyebrows.

“No, I’m merely just… he’ghnxt” he ducked again, shaking his head a little annoyed this time. “Bothered by the dust” he added, face still behind his left hand. Meanwhile, with his right, he was looking for something in his cloak, then pulled out a white cloth thing. “Heh… heh”gnxnt”ghxnt… arghh."

Well, at least Durin definitely recognized the noise of frustration, even if he still had no idea what was happening. The last two... something scared a little but Durin, because it sounded like the Elf didn't even have time to breathe between them.

Elrond threw an apologetic glance towards the Dwarf from behind his hand, then he turned, so Durin only saw his back. And then he… blew in the cloth with his… nose?

Durin shook his head. Elves were certainly… curious creatures. He just hoped that it wasn’t some magic that Elrond was doing.

“Excuse me.” Elrond turned back. His eyes were still a little cloudy and red, as well as the skin around his nose, but at least he stopped with those strange noises. “I won’t sneeze this much once I get more used to the dust, bu… but… he”gnxgt… sorry… As I said, once I get more used to the dueh… heh’TSHIEW… I give up.” Elrond shook his head, then turned around again to blow his nose into the cloth.

“Quit apologizing!” Snapped Durin, who was more frustrated about not understanding something than Elrond apologizing. “Instead, tell me what the hell are you doing, would you?” He asked, still eyeing the Elf with suspicion. 

It was Elrond’s time to be confused. He turned back towards Durin, the cloth still in his hands, holding it over his nose. His eyes grew wide, and then he ducked again, but this time he was silent - his eyes squeezed shut again - like he was in pain -, and he jerked forward from some kind of force, but he didn’t give a single noise.

“Durin, you’re telling me that you have no idea what a sneeze is?” He asked, confused, tears in his eyes.

[absolute-snzaster]

a love letter to letters

I feel like it's a thing we snzfuckers must be at least subconsciously aware of, but I just for the first time really thought about how different letters in sneeze spellings can indicate different qualities in a sneeze. the vowels, for instance:

a's are loud. a's are an indication that a person is really leaning into their sneeze, or at least not holding it back. contrarily, a's in a buildup can mean the person can't hold back. "ah-ah-AHH—" is the sound of someone being overtaken by a sneeze, of someone who so desperately needs to sneeze that they can't help but vocalize it.

e's and i's are for the higher-pitched. i's especially hit the real high notes, while e's can be a bit breathier, riding the comedown after an i or unfurling out on their own. i's can be breathy themselves under the right conditions, padded with sufficient h's to be nearly unvocalized, but an i and an e together undoubtedly signify a sneeze soaring into the treble.

o's... what can I say? o's are classic. the release of a sneeze unstifled... or unable to be stifled. high and sharp, low and guttural, vocal or whispered or anywhere in between, o's are the sound of a sneeze unleashing at full force.

and then there's u's. oh, u's, my absolute beloved. u's are the sound of someone who's not trying—or even trying not—to make any noise, but their sneezes are so strong that they come out vocalized anyway. u's are for someone with such a terrible cold that their whole demeanor reads congested, when it's not just their m's and n's that are blunted but a dullness that suffuses every aspect of their voice. u's are exhausted, the state of someone who has been sneezing for so long they've given up trying to control it. no push, no pitch, and certainly not a chance of stifling—their sneezes just happen to them now. u's are the sound of someone who just can't help it.

[fuckin-sick-bih]

Tattoos and Tissues

Fandom: Stranger Things Summary: No Upside Down. Tattoo Artist and Florist AU. Eddie is a tattoo shop owner and all is going swimmingly until a certain familiar face from high school drops in to ask for help with tattoo design but ends up setting off his allergies. But Eddie can't pinpoint why his ex-bully is so... squirmy? CW: Really mild mention of mess? Steve has the kink but it's really only implied. Word Count: 4k Author Note: Heya! I tried to throw some fun kink-related scenario stuff into this fic just for shits and giggles. But also kept it pretty tame, but I've got some ideas for a pt 2 and possibly pt 3 if y'all like this? And those might get spicier. So just let me know if you like this AU or just really sneezy Eddie in general. It was fun to write! Also kinda lowkey maybe sorta snuck in some Autistic Eddie bc hi author is autistic oops. MINORS DNI

It was winter. Blessedly crisp and cold, and even if Eddie hated being cold, he liked winter. It was one of the few seasons where he wasn’t the sneezy friend for once in his life. No, with his Munson Constitution, Eddie had an immune system like a damn suit of armor.

Come Spring, Summer, and even Fall? Eddie was bound to sneeze on and off all damn day depending on the pollen count for the various things he was allergic to. The only reason he was usually functional at all was because of getting allergy shots that helped make his itchiness, sneezing, and everything else more manageable. When he couldn’t do that he just had to pop some Benadryl and hope for the best.

Eddie’s chilly fingers were currently wrapped around a coffee mug as he headed into work, greeting Gareth sleepily with a mumble.

“Dude. It’s 11am. You should absolutely be awake by now.” Gareth said incredulously from behind the counter where he was going over the schedule for the day. They’d only just opened. Such was the luxury of owning a tattoo parlor, they could open just before noon, and it was completely normal for them.

Eddie sipped his coffee and waved a ring clad hand at Gareth, shushing him once he’d swallowed. “Shhh… you sound like my uncle when you nag like that.” He complains and has another sip of coffee, leaning over to peek at the schedule. “I got anything early?”

It wasn’t unusual for Eddie to lean into other people’s personal space and Garret just rolled his eyes and shoved him back over the counter. “No. When do you ever? Chrissy always does mornings for you.”

“He’s riiiiight.” Chrissy says with a sing song voice as she comes skipping over to Eddie with a grin on her face. She steals his coffee cup for a sip and Eddie doesn’t even whine as she does so. Just lets her have it.

Eddie wraps an arm around Chrissy’s shoulders and squeezes her gently. “And you’re an angel for it. An angel!” He insists and turns his face away from her to yawn into his arm. “Urgh sorry.”

One of Chrissy’s hands comes up to gently cup Eddie’s face, eyeing the bags under his eyes and how bloodshot they look. “Is it nightmares again?” She asks him quietly to which Garret politely pretends to be busy doing anything but listening in.

With a fake smile, Eddie gently takes her hand off his face and squeezes it reassuringly. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.” He told her quietly and kissed the top of her head. They weren’t together. Had tried it once but Chrissy had broken down and sobbed to Eddie over a bottle of wine that she was a lesbian. Eddie had held her all night, reassured her, promised her that no matter what he loved her and supported her wholeheartedly.  

So, they weren’t together, but they were as thick as thieves. Closer than siblings but not together in any romantic or sexual sense. They just knew each other too well. On some deeper level… Chrissy knew shit about Eddie’s past that no one else knew and Eddie, in turn, knew things about Chrissy he’d never breathe a word about…

The door chimed and Chrissy stepped back to look at the person who had come through the doors. “Hi, welcomed to Banished Tattoo, if you’re my eleven thirty you’re pretty early, eager beaver.” She greeted chipperly to which the stranger seemed surprised.

“Uh… no actually. I was looking around at some tattoo places near my new apartment and this place is pretty close. Thought I’d stop by and check out some work. Maybe talk design ideas if I like your stuff?” And the man used a hand to brush his stray bangs that had fallen back up out of his face.

Strangely familiar… He was gorgeous. No really. Utterly and completely heart-stopping. Those soft lips and handsome jaw with that perfect fucking hair, those little moles, fuck  Eddie was smitten already, and the motherfucker hadn’t even agreed to a tattoo yet.

In fact, it didn’t look like he had any tattoos at all… Eddie was somewhat confused but left Chrissy to set him up with their work portfolio booklets full of their best pieces. He took his coffee to his tattooing station on the lower floor.

All of Chrissy’s things were in the loft area up top. She was so short and so liked to feel tall otherwise. A little while later, Eddie became aware of Chrissy’s presence behind him when he was about half way done with his coffee. “Oh no…” He said quietly. “Don’t tell me…”

“He liked your work.” Chrissy said with a grin and grabbed him by one of his curls to pull him out from behind the dividing wall to the waiting area while Eddie hisses “ow ow ow ow ow Chrissy-!”

Once they’re in front of this poor stranger, already subjected to Eddie’s nonsense this early in the morning (at least in Eddie’s opinion), Eddie tucks the strand of hair Chrissy pulled him by back behind his ear.

“Sorry, he’s not a morning person is all.” Chrissy explained, still cheerful as ever. “I’ve got to go prepare for my eleven thirty. You boys have fun brainstorming.” And with that she hurried off back up to the loft.

Eddie wanted to grumble but instead he took a breath, felt a dull tingle in his nose and ignored it, before switching his coffee to his nondominant hand to offer a handshake out to the other man. “Eddie Munson. So, you liked my stuff and wanna design a tattoo?”

The other man takes the offered hand to shake it and nods. “Yeah! I really liked your style and consistency, man. I’m Steve Harrington.” He introduced himself and Eddie could swear the name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it.

His nose prickled with that itchy sort of tickling sensation again and Eddie rubbed at it with the back of his wrist. “Steve Harrington, huh? Nice to meet ya. Let me grab some things and we can get settled in my tattooing area to design this if you want? There’s a couch in there?” He offered and headed back to his area. Rummaging around a little, Eddie pulled out his sketchbook, pencils, and pens. “So, what’s our tattoo idea?”

Slowly, Steve eased down on the black leather couch while Eddie leaned against the tattooing table, setting his coffee down there. “I’m not totally sure… I babysit these kids and I sort of just promised them if they’re all graduating with A’s then I’ll get a tattoo for them. And well- I’m a man of my word.”

A loud sigh escaped Eddie as he smiled and rubbed a hand over his face. “Oh man… You’re in some shit. Okay, bud. You want something small or big?” He asked casually and felt the tickle spike in intensity for a moment. “Hih… Uh… h-hang on one s-seehhcond…”

Holding up a finger with the hand still holding his pencil, Eddie lifts his opposite arm to prepare to sneeze into his elbow. “EhhhXT’shh! Ugh sorry. S’cuse me.” He shook his head, curls flopping wildly for a moment and sniffed.

“Bless you.” Steve said, blinking a few times and looking like he had to recover for a moment. “Are you okay?”

Eddie waved off his concern with another sniff and a nod. “I’m fine. So, this tattoo. How big or small? Any sort of theme you’re th-hiih-inking about?” He questioned and tapped his pencil against the paper a little, the itch still bothering him.

Poor Steve looked completely out of his element now that they were talking about putting ink on him specifically. “Um… well… I think small might be better for my first-”

“HiiD’TShhuh! Ugh… snff sorry.” Eddie apologized, realizing he’d interrupted Steve again who looked positively flustered.

Maybe flustered was too kind of a word to use. Actually, Steve looked downright embarrassed. He was bright red but even as Eddie went to ask if he was okay, Steve took his turn to cut him off. “It’s fine. Um. What was I saying? Oh! Small! So how small is small really? Like a quarter? Or… like a drink coaster? I dunno…” He threw his hands a little in frustration and Eddie couldn’t help smiling in endearment.

“You h-hhhaave no idea what you w-want do you?” Eddie asked with a smirk and another sniffle punctuating it.

“No fucking idea.” Steve finally admitted with a groan and put his face in his hands.

Eddie laughed a little and felt his breath wheeze in his chest. “Oh shit. That makes s-sense…” He chokes out, his breath threatening to hitch again. “I can h-help you design a tattoo no p-prehh… problem snfff but I need some allergy meds f-fihh first because something is seriously s-setting me off.” He hitches his way through reassuring Steve and goes to dig in his cabinets for some Benadryl.

For a few moments, Steve looks stunned and is apparently too shocked to speak.

“W-Whhhiih…what’s the batter, Stevie?” Eddie asked, his sinuses swelling a little and congestion settling in to turn his m’s to b’s and n’s to d’s. “Dever heard of allergies b-beeh… eehHID’TsHHew! HeiSHEW! Ugh… fuck be…” He plucked a few tissues from the box on the counter to wipe his nose after sneezing into his elbow.

“No, it’s just- shit. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. Are you allergic to pollen?” Steve asked anxiously and brushed his bangs back out of his face. When Eddie glanced back at him, Steve was still wearing that look like he was beating himself up internally, but he was more concerned than anything else.

Overly so in Eddie’s opinion, but maybe it was because he delt with this on the regular. “I’b allergic to everythi’g, Stevie. Is it a pladt that cad jizz? Thed I’b godda sdeeze add itch add wheeze…” He murmurs and rubs at his nose a little before finally pulling out the godforsaken bottle of Benadryl to down a dose with some water from his water bottle. ”Hiih’tshhuh! Huh… oh by god.”

The way Steve’s expression falls and crumples just about breaks Eddie’s heart. “Shit. Yeah. It’s my fault. I’m a florist. My job is making all the floral arrangements that get put on display or that people order.” He tries to smile softly at Eddie in a reassuring way.

“That bakes- hhii’DTshhuh! Ugh… so buch sedse.” Eddie mumbles, swiping at his nose and rubbing at it in rough circles with the tissue he’s got. His nose itches something fierce and his eyes are starting to get itchy and watery too. God, it makes him want to jump in a steamy hot shower for an hour to rinse the allergens out.

Steve was making to grab his things, looking like he was getting ready to leave. “I’m sorry. I really liked your work but if the allergies are too much I don’t wanna torture you, man…”

Panic rose in Eddie like a snake rearing its head to strike. Something in him didn’t want Steve to leave. He was so damn pretty, held good conversation, and Eddie still can’t place why Steve is familiar. Nope. Something in him tells him Steve can’t leave, not yet.

“D’no!” Eddie said quickly and moved around the tattoo table, knocking the tissue box to the floor in his rush. “Shit- uh d’no uh dod’t go. Seriously, I’b used to this. I- iihhxshhTsh! Fuck. I’b like this all spri’g, subber, add fall. Ask adyode. I cad work through this d’no probleb. I eved keep basks for whed I’b tattooi’g just id case.”

There was a look of uncertainty from Steve as he shifted his weight from foot to foot for a moment, “Your allergies are that bad? Do you get like… allergy shots or whatever? I hear those help.” He picked up the box of tissues off the floor to hand them back to Eddie who took them gratefully.

Eddie nodded when Steve asked if his allergies were that bad, his breath hitching unevenly again while his nostrils twitched. They were starting to get pink and irritated, plucking a few tissues as said nostrils twitched and flared while his breathing stuttered. “Uh-huhh… mmf. Yeah. Get allergy s-shots as ofted as I cad id allergy seasod, but I s-still- Hhxxshuh! Oh by god… sdeeze. Add adyway it’s widter dow. Usually, dothi’g to sdeeze or wheeze about buch udtil I h-hhhave to get the Christbas decoratiods out. Snfff!”

“I’m so sorry, Eddie. Really. If you’re not feeling up to this at all we can reschedule, and I can make sure to shower and wear freshly washed clothes?” Steve offers, still watching Eddie worriedly. There was an almost mom-like quality to how he was beginning to hover and now Eddie could see how he’d likely become the babysitter of some highschoolers.

He sniffled again and pawed at his nose a little, hoping to alleviate the itchiness deep within. “I’b a-aaah-alright really. Just sdeezy. I’b so used to t-this. As lodg as you’re dot freaki’g out. If you’re freaki’g out, by all beads, H-hhhharri’gtod…” He stepped back and made a grand gesture with both hands and bowed as if bowing the king out of court.

Then it clicked. Harrington. King Harrington. From high school. This was one of the preppy jocks from that group that tried to single out his little flock of misfits. He had been set to graduate before Harrington until he was held back twice. “EiiTSHHHuh! HeehDTSHHHEW! Ugh-”

“Woah, big sneeze,” Steve said, sounding impressed and almost cheering him on in a way. “Shit. Sorry. My roommate, Robin, and I have this running joke that’s like that. Every time one of us does something like yawn or burp or… I guess even sneeze and it’s big, we say that.” He chuckles bashfully.

A soft, sort of mushy feeling settles in Eddie’s chest, and he really can’t help himself.  This was surely not the same King Harrington from high school. “Okay, d’no that’s snff snffff ki’d of cute.” He snuffled against his sleeve and his nostrils twitch and flare again, making Eddie’s eyes squint and water as he begged for relief from the tickle. “Ugh.. fucki’g pladt sperb.” He grumbles and wiggles his nose. “Well, if you and your roobbate ever h-have a gabe of who sdeezes the bost coudt be id. Easy wid.”

Once again Steve’s face seemed to just color up such a brilliant shade of red that Eddie couldn’t even begin to describe. It was richer than just cherry or tomato red. “From uh… from what I’m seeing here I don’t doubt that. But you’ve never seen me with a cold.”

And that sounded like a challenge. Eddie was all about a good old fashioned challenge. “Oh yeah snff, Harri’gtod?” His eyelashes fluttered a little and his breathing hitched ever so slightly, a hand coming up to hover in front of his face. “H-hhhold that th-hhhiihh- thought-! Hih-! HiiTSHH! EhhTShhEW! Eheh… eh-? EhhptSHHEW! EhhKTSHHEW! Huh…”

“Holy fuck, big sneezes. Bless you!” Steve says in a soft sort of awe which makes Eddie laugh softly as he plucks some tissues to clean himself up. He clamped his ring covered hand over his mouth and nose and now it was a total mess which he was struggling to clean up.

Blowing his nose would probably help but with someone like Steve right there, Eddie didn’t exactly want to feel that unattractive. So, he settled for snuffling softly behind a tissue. “Thagks.” He mumbles, cringing at how congested he was getting as he pumped some hand sanitizer onto his hands, rubbing them together rapidly. “Alright. Tell be about these rudts of yours-”

The time flew by after Eddie started asking the right questions. Soon they had an intricately designed piece with many things Steve had listed that the kids did, liked, teased and joked about. Even some inside jokes were thrown into the tattoo. It was smallish. About coaster sized so maybe medium for a first piece.

Steve loved it. Adored it even. He was immediately sending pictures to his roommate who was texting back faster than Chrissy even did sometimes. The Benadryl had mostly kicked in and Eddie was still sniffling and sneezing though not as much. And he was still congested as hell.

“Eddie, really, this is… wow. And I get to have this? Like on my body?” Steve said with a smile that could light up even Eddie’s black, charred, dead heart.

Eddie chuckled quietly and sniffled, rubbing at his itchy nose some more with his wrist. “Uh-huh. All yours, big boy. I just get exclusive rights to tattoo it od you sidce I drew it.” He half jokes. It was a bit like… a code of honor. If one artist starts a piece, they should be the one to finish it unless they can’t. “EhhDTSHHEW! Huh… S’cuse be.” He mumbles and sniffled again, grabbing another tissue to wipe his nose which was now painfully red.

A soft smile crossed Steve’s face, “Bless you. You get to tattoo it on me, Eddie. No worries about that. You sure you’re okay? Don’t need me to get uh-?”

“Chrissy.” Eddie supplies his coworker’s name and shakes his head, curls bouncing again. “D’no. I’b fide. Seriously. I dod’t eved have buch od by schedule today. Snff snfff. Just two sballer tattoos add snfff… I’b hhhih… dode. I thigk snff Garret add Chrissy will udersta’d if I wadt to go hobe early add shower thed pass out.” He admits with a returned smile back at Steve, fighting off another tickle by scrubbing at his nose.

Again, Steve seems… uncomfortable somehow. Eddie seriously hopes all this sneezing isn’t majorly putting Steve off because fuck that would be just Eddie’s luck wouldn’t it? Find the perfect guy for once and he’s a total germaphobe. He suddenly has to yank his hoodie collar up to cover his face as the tickle overwhelms him. “IhhEXXTSHHUH! Oh by fugki’g god…”

Something like a sympathetic noise comes from Steve and he plucks a few tissues from the box to offer them to Eddie who takes them gratefully, hurriedly burying his face in them to- “HehhTSHhuh! Sorry for all the sdeezi’g. Snff. I probise I’b dot usually caught so- udprepared?”

“Eddie,” And god Steve’s voice is so soft when he says his name like that. “It’s alright. Seriously. I don’t mind the sneezing one bit.” He tries to insist but Eddie knows better. He likes to think he knows how to read people, it’s a survival skill at this point. Something he’d had to develop over time because Eddie Munson has no natural social skills.

Leave him alone in a room full of people and he’ll meld into the back wall. The only reason he’d been so loud and obnoxious in high school was to draw the attention of the jocks away from his group of misfits and onto himself. To keep them safe.

So, Eddie, being terrible at social skills as he is, rubs at his nose and sniffles some more. “N’do way, dude. I kdow it’s gross. You dod’t h-have to be polite to m’be.” He laughs it off like he can do most anything someone thinks is gross or weird about him. Even if it’s never quite true deep down.

And then Steve is doing that soft look again, like he’s concerned for Eddie in a way that only Chrissy or Garret (though he pretends not to) has ever been before. And well, obviously, his Uncle Wayne but he’s obligated to it doesn’t count.

Steve is opening his mouth to speak again but the tickle is burning through Eddie’s nose again so he hastily holds up a finger again to tell Steve to wait.

“H-hhhhold that t-thought, bi-ihh big boy exxshhtuh! Huh… N’gxxSHUH! Jesus. Whew. Okay, sorry. Codtidue.” Eddie was hastily swiping at his nose with the tissue he’d luckily caught his sneezes into.

There it is again. The discomfort. Eddie had hoped that making light of his predicament might help put Steve at ease, but it only seemed to make things worse. Guilt gnawed at him even if he couldn’t help it.

With a deep breath and what looked like a lot of effort on Steve’s part, the other man found his voice to speak. “You’re not gross, Eddie. Trust me. But I promise for our actual tattooing appointment I will wear extra clean clothes and come freshly showered so you’re not suffering again. Deal?” He extended a hand out with a smile to shake on it.

Eddie sniffled and grabbed Steve’s hand in a firm grip, rings clicking together. “It’s a deal, Harri’gtod. Ehh….EXT’shew! SnFF!” He’d ducked his face away from Steve to sneeze but still felt the other’s grip tighten so much more. “Sorry.” He mumbled and sniffled a little before facing Steve again.

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve says with a chuckle that sounds a little forced even if his hazel eyes are genuine. “I should get going. I’ve gotta take the kids to D&D at the library later tonight but they wanted to hang out after school.”

That perks Eddie up instantly. “D’no shit?” He laughs and smirks. “You ever stick around to watch the sessions?” He asked, already knowing the answer to that. He just hadn’t realized that flock of seniors were the same seniors he DMed for.

With a casual wave of his hand, Steve shook his head and Eddie swore he could see pollen come off Steve’s jacket sleeve when he moved that fast. “Nah. The kids love the game, but D&D was never really my-”

“EuhhTShhuh! Hept’SHuh! EISSHhuh! Fuck- sorry.”

“- thing… Bless you three times, Eddie.”

Eddie tried to make it not as big of a deal this time, but Steve still squirmed, and he wanted to curse himself. This was awful. Embarrassing himself in front of his brand new crush on his former high school bully. Even if Harrington had never really bullied him just… never stopped some of the others from it. Half the jocks picked on him while the other half knew better than to fuck with their dealer.

So, Eddie had always chalked it up to Harrington didn’t want to fuck up his relationship to his weed dealer.

With a sniffle and rubbing his wrist against his nose, Eddie stepped back to nod towards the shop exit. “I wod’t keep you thed, but you should stay add watch a sessiod sobe tibe. Bight chadge your bide od liki’g it… Okay, you better get to those twerps before you’re late.” He teases congestedly and puts on another smile for Steve, lifting his sketchbook. “I’ve got a desigd to idk add prep for you od Tuesday.”

Steve chuckles softly and nods, “Alright, alright.” He checks his watch, and his eyes widen. “Oh shit, it’s nearly two already. Yeah, thank you! So much, Eddie, really! I love it. I’ll see you on Tuesday!” And without much else said, Steve left his tattooing room in a rush while Eddie sniffled.

“See ya,” Eddie said with a wave.

It wasn’t maybe a minute later that Chrissy came rushing into his tattooing area with a wild grin on her face. “Eddie! It went well?!” But her face fell as she saw what an allergic mess he was. “Oh, Eds, sweetie- did you take allergy meds?”

With a wave of his hand, Eddie brushed her concerns off. “I did yeah. Already got it id be. I guess it wedt well? We talked for a lo’g while to bake sure we got his first tat right, y’kdow?” He explained to Chrissy, rubbing at his nose to itch it some but it makes an awful squelching sound.

Chrissy makes a face at the noise but shakes her head. “No, you idiot!” She looks positively thrilled to share this news with him. “Eddie, he was definitely hard when he left.”

A beat of silence.

“What?” Eddie asked incredulously and met Chrissy’s eyes. “You’re joki’g? You’re dot joki’g. D’no… you’ve gotta be fucki’g with be…”

Chrissy watched him as Eddie began to pace between her and the cabinets of his workstation. “I’m not- Eddie, what happened?”

“Ehh… EPTSH’uhh! Ugh… sorry. Okay this is godda sou’d crazy… but I thidk by dew cliedt is ki’d of idto by sdeezes.”

Link to Part 2

[clovesnz]

Here is the bus story I mentioned in my pole! I'm not quite as confident in this one since it isn't as..well..rampantly steamy as the last bit of writing I posted was, but I hope you still find it enjoyable! I'm still not quite sure about the ending, so lmk what you think. Once again I am new at this so please be gentle lol

Description: snzy meet-cute on the bus during the height of allergy season. Mentions of mess, stifling, embarrassment, a bit of stuffy talk, and blue surgical masks as makeshift tissues.

* * * *

The woman sitting in front of me just…keeps sneezing 

God she just won’t stop. I was sitting with my legs propped up against her seat when she started, and I can feel it move every time she bends over.

It’s kind like of a “heEEhshiew” sort of sound, but than every once in a while it’s like she decides she’s going to get it under control and stifle it, which results in a snotty squelching sound and then even louder sneezes afterwords. So I don’t know why she keeps doing it. In an act of self preservation I sit up straight so that my knees are no longer against her chair. She keeps catching the sneezes with her open hand, and then looking up and closing her eyes as she pinches and rubs her nose. She clearly doesn’t have a handkerchief, and I watch in aw as she brings her hand into sleeve and blows her nose right on the cuff of it. I see a glimpse of the shining snot dripping from it as she lowers her hand to wipe the sleeve on the edge of her pants. 

Someone was blessing her when she started but they got off a few stops ago, and everyone else has lost interest. 

Well besides me. I don’t realize how much I’m staring until she glances back self consciously and sees me, and with another swipe at her nose and a thick sniffle and cringes “sorry, I promise I’m not sick, just ah..allergIEXZ! -”

Startled, I smile awkwardly. God, her nose is so perfect. It’s long and slightly rounded, with dainty nostrils that are twitching and stingingly red. “Oh! No," I hurry, "it’s okay, your fine!” I feel my cheeks warm. That was a stupid thing to say, I mean clearly she’s not fine. She’s already turned back, but I hear myself say “or, I mean- are you?”

Before she can answer she’s overcome by another sneeze, one hand on the back of her seat and the other unabashedly receiving the aftermath. “HHhheeESHIEW!!!!” *snifflle* she looks up, “huh?”

I try not to stare as she wipes her nose down half the length of her forearm in a desperate attempt to keep it’s contents off her face. 

“Um, are you okay?” 

*snurfff* “yeah I just can’t - HEH - can’t get my ndose to c - calm down and I don’t h-hhhheeeEEETCHIEWW, *snxggg* , ack sorry. Umb, I dond’t have endythig to blow mby ndose with cause a forgot mby…a - a - a - aATTCHEIW!! *snxgxs* *snfff * my stupid bag that had mby tissues in it.”

She continues to work at her nose with the back of her hand, and trying not to continue staring, I look around the bus instead for anything that might help. There aren’t a lot of passengers left, and the driver only has hand sanitizer, no tissues. I would offer the sweater I took off earlier, but that would come across…yeah, we’re not doing that. But then my eyes meet the little box of blue masks that they keep next to the first row of seats. That…maybe that could work.

I ask, “Do you want me to try and find you something?” I feel a little uncomfortable engaging with the situation so much, but hey, even if it’s being earned for slightly unorthodox reasons, at least my attention might get the poor girl some help.

She laughs a little nervously, “oh my god, *sngx*, I don’t want to bother people more than I already am”

Gosh, the poor thing. She’s letting out soupy sniffles with every other word. 

“Hold on a sec” I say to her, and I walk to the front of the bus and grab a handful of the blue surgical masks from the little box they have hanging. The mandate on busses has been long gone, they must just keep them around on principal now. As I walk back I take one of them out of them out of its plastic wrapper, handing it it to her when I reach her and setting the rest of the masks on the empty seat next to her.

“Think you could use this?” She looks at it with confusion for a fraction of a second, before noticing the others I brought and registering that I am in fact suggesting she use them like tissues. She laughs, “oh! yeah, that…that could work, *snnngkxx*, I never would have thought of that,” she says as she takes the mask from me, “thankgs.” She pulls open the folds so that she has more area to work with, and than presses it to her face and lets out a gurgling, bubbling blow that turns to honking at the end as she works each nostril. I sit back in my seat behind her and try not to shift, awkwardly.

She folds the mask neatly in half, and to my amazement slips it over her wrist, like a little snot filled handbag. Then she unwraps the next one, still sniffling and sneezing despite the impressive blow. I watch as she unwraps one after the other, filling each with spittle and snot as she sneezes and sneezes and blows and sneezes into each one. My stop is announced and I pull the stop signal, and she looks back at me for a second with a very itchy smile and says “oh hey, that’s mby stop too.” “Oh nice!” I respond, and stand up to swing my backpack over my shoulder. I wasn’t planning on trying to talk to her more. She’s dealing with shit and I would probably be too nervous to make coherent conversation. But now she’s trying to gather all the clear plastic wrappers off of the seat where she’d dropped them, and her hands are already full with snot-filled masks, and she still has a bag on the other side of her that she’ll need to somehow to carry out. And the poor thing is still bending forward to sneeze every few seconds. So in spite of myself, I turn back to her and ask “hey uh, do you want me to get your bag for you?” “TttttchIEW!!” she looks down at her trash-filled hands, and then reaches the back of one of them up to her nose. “Oh! Uhm, yeah sure.” Her face is already red, but I could swear she blushes just a little as she steps back to let me grasp the bag from off of her seat. To the panging of my heart she still thanks the buss driver between sniffles, and he gives her a sympathizing look as we step off of the bus and into the afternoon air. 

It’s a beautiful, sunny day, and only just getting a little chilly with a soft breeze that’s started up since I got on the bus. But it is also the cusp of spring, and any doubts I had about what exactly this woman is allergic to are blown away by the tremendous sneeze she lets out the moment she steps off the bus and into the spring air.

"HHhhhEEYAATCHIEWW!!!"

The froce of it almost knocks her over, and she manages to let some of the plastic wrappers flutter down around her and onto the sidewalk. Before she has time to pick them up she is hit with the most desperate, breathless fit a sneezes I have possibly witnesses. She is doubled over, still clutching one of the soaked-through masks to her nose, and just letting out one after another after another.

"HAATCHIEWW!!-eeTChiew! hhiiiiETCHIEW! ETCHIEW! ETCHIEW! ETCHIEW! ETs-eeATSCHIEW - ETCHIEW - ETChew - eeEchIEW!!!  HIIIeeeeeeeeETCHIEWWW!!! TSHIEWWW!!! TTTSSSHIEWW!!!"

The wrappers flutter in the breeze a little and I realize someone has to pick them up or they'll fly away. I scurry over and on my knees, start to pick them up. She has break enough to notice, and tries to muster an apology 

"I'mb sorry I - I - tttssssSHEW! I - TtsssSHIEW!! I - TTSHIEW! I - fuck - HATCHHHEWWW!! ESHIU! ESHHHHU!" 

She bends over again, apparently too overcome to continue to protest or apologize at my helping. I stuff the wad of plastic into the bus stop garbage, and then turn back to her. I'm still holding her bag. I kind of feel bad just handing it to her and walking away while she's in this state, so instead I just kind of...stand there. And watch. And it makes me blush so hard that when she finally gets a chance to catch her breath, she looks over at me and says "a god, I'm sorry, you look so cold standing there."

Someone who is this much of a sweetheart does not deserve such hellish allergies, I think, and I step over and hold out the bag. "you gonna be okay?" She laughs a little, "oh, yeah. *snf,* I'm used to it. I ndow it seems kinda freakish. but it kinda happens every year." 

"I don't think it's freakish",' I say, (I think it's cute, I fail add.) 

Now that she has a chance, she really looks at me. I just stand there, letting her, and she tilts her head and puts on kind of a thoughtful expression and shakes her head a little and says "you know, you are so cute."

Before I have time to figure out how on earth to handle this information, that this cute incredibly sneezy woman thinks I'm also cute, she gives the poor mask an incredibly enthusiastic blow, grabs my hand in both of hers and says "thank you so much, it was fun meeting you, genuinely," slips something made of paper into my hand, and strides down the street, still rubbing at her nose and sniffling profusely. 

I look down at the paper. It's a business card - she must keep them in her pocket or something. I've run into people before who carry business cards with their contact info, but it's not something you see a lot, and the fact that she is one of those people is...somehow incredibly endearing. It has a picture of her, and her name, which is Devin, and her email, phone, and instagram handle. On the back it has a doodle of a cat bopping a star on a string.

I glance back up where she was walking, but she's already turned the corner out of sight.

Slowly, I step over to the trash can again. I mean what would I even say to her, we barely talked? Just having it is going to give me anxiety, feeling like I should have reached out.

But something makes me stop before I actually throw it in. I look at the picture of her. And it must be something about the way her eyes glinted when she told me I looked cold, or the way she...didn't even try to take her bag back from me until I shoved it in her face, or the way she squeezed my hand and said "genuinely." I just can't bring myself to toss it. Instead, I slip it behind the cards in my wallet. I don't have to do anything with it. I can ignore it and just savor the memory of our meeting and never even give the card a second thought.

But, you know...maybe. 

There is something exciting about maybe.

[vikalynnssnzblog]

Ok maybe I’ve been kiiiind of inspired by @just-a-nervous-bean and a few others on this site to actually draw my prince boy in my cartoon way now that I’ve been drawing consistently for a year…

Who knows I may just make a story for this one oAo but yeah I also thought I’d introduce Ori and hellebore as well as actual snz for judethea. Also some random nose studies? Yes plz. I just love the idea that this prince is kind of a diva and then gets taken out while he has to go about his duties, trying to hide his cold so he can do a ball or something, sooooo lmaooo idk I may write it still

[courage-in-immensity]

The aftermath of Dan's methods of punishing Clay, aka fluffy Clinn sickfic.

[hehkshew]

[Catch Your Death] (H/azbin H/otel) A/ngel D/ust x A/lastor [1000 Words]

Alastor glanced sideways, a small and amused expression tugging at the corner of his lips as he raised an eyebrow towards Angel, “You know, you didn’t have to come with me,” Voice smooth as he twirled his microphone in hand as they walked.

The pair currently on an outing, Alastor getting the urge to pick up something from his favorite butchers. Angel insistent that he wanted to go, trudging along side.

It was the colder parts of the year, as low of a temperature  Hell could get at the least. Instead of blazing warm the place got air could even be referred to somewhat as cold.

And with cold came sickness. Alastor’s glance turning away with a light shake of the head, bemused smile gracing his features.

The two in long coats, Alastor’s more burberry colored with Angel in a Hot pink, vibrancy as always, thick pink scarf wrapped around his neck, covering his mouth and nose. 

Angel turning his head with a harsh sharp turn to the side, a muffled sneeze into it. Turning not needed with how his face was practically covered, but doing it anyway. Sniffling with a small groan. 

Alastor’s hand resting on his back as they walked, aware of the unfortunate cold that had been plaguing him since before they’d stepped out the door.

As Angel sneezed again into the thick scarf Alastor gently  gave him a look, one that read as a reminder that they could turn back home at any time. He himself wasn’t all too bothered by the cold, he was dressed warmly for it.

Angel was too, but even he knew it probably wasn’t wise to be out here.

Angel’s expression changing with a scrunch of the nose, blinking away the blearyness from the constant sniffling. Shaking his head no as he mumbled spoke through the fabric, “What, and miss a chance to strut around with my favorite Deer? Not a chance, babe.”

His voice sounded thick with congestion, the usual sass and charm he usually displayed was almost entirely gone, muted by sickness.

Alastor’s voice crackled with a laugh, spiking as it echoed with the sound of radio static. A grin of amusement. “Well, as much as I admire your dedication, I’m starting to think maybe we should have stayed in. You’re sneezing far more than you’re breathing, My Dear.”

Angel let out another muffled sneeze into his scarf, grimacing as it was feeling more damper and less pleasant by the minute. Another small groan of frustration as he sniffled behind it, Alastor gently turning and hooking a finger between the space, pulling the scarf down so it wasn’t covering Angel’s face any longer. Angel flushing with a glance away.

“... Still, It’s gonna take more than some shivering to keep me down, besides. Who else is gonna keep you in check?” He grinned, voice wavering slightly as he sniffled louder again this time. Feeling his nose ran slightly as he hovered a hand over his face, searching his pockets and failing to hide his disappointment at them being empty. “Ugh, of course I’m outta tissues.”

Alastor paused their walking, eyes flickering over to him with an exasperated smile. and an ear twitch, “Caught in a bind, now are we?” Twirling his microphone again as he leaned on it, reaching deep into the pockets of his own coat with practiced ease, pulling out a neatly folded handkerchief, “Here, Darling.” Offering it to him, glint of amusement evident.

Unfurling it as he looked down at it. “Pink, really? I’m almost afraid to ask.” Voice teasing, but there was a fondness to it as well. Appreciating the gesture a lot more than he let on.

Bringing it up to his face, small inhale with a sharp sneeze, muffled by the sound of the frantic. Pulling it down with a sniffled, blinking with eyes a little watery, “Cute. Matches my eyes.” Glancing over to Alastor, who was looking oddly… Flustered? 

Angel paused, glancing down at it again, he looked down at it. Eyes narrowing with a small confused smirk as he examined the embroidered piece, pink with white stitching. Little spiderwebs in the corners. This was custom.

A mischievous glint flashed across his eyes as he grinned towards him, “Wait a sec, what’s with you having this anyway? Ya ain’t carrying it around just for me, are ya?” Alreading knowing, expression playful as he teased. Enjoying the rare moment of Alastor actually looking caught off guard.

Alastor’s composure wavering, a faint hint of red creeping over his features, barely noticeable but there. Looking away as he adjusted his tie as thought it needed straightening– it didn’t, but it gave him something to do as he tried to compose himself.

Alastor cleared his throat, voice a tad stiffer than before, “It’s just so happens,” He began, tone carefully measured, “That I’ve noticed that you frequently find yourself in need of one.” Words almost defensive, albeit the warmth hidden behind them.

Angel laughed, a bright genuine sound that echoed through the street, dabbing at his face again as he sighed with a grin, looking down as he sniffled.

“Aw, Al. You’re so sweet, I didn’t know you cared about me so much” Amused as he continued to beam. “But seriously, thanks.”

At his words, Alastor was able to regain some composure. Smile softer than the usual sharpness, blinking down at the ground at they passed the streets. “You’re most welcome, Dear. Though I do wish you’d take better care of yourself, perhaps invest in a warmer coat? You seem fully determined at attempting to catch your death out here.”

A snicker, “Eh, maybe.” Shrugging at the suggestion, sniffling loudly as he shook his head with denial, “But then, what would my excuse be to keep stealing your cute little cloths?” Winking as he stuffed the piece down the fluff of his chest, right near his heart.

“True enough, shall we? I want you home warm, after all.” Leaning closer as they approached the butchers. 

As Angel rested his head on the other’s shoulder with hands entwined, perhaps, being with Alastor was more than enough to keep the chills at bay.

[dreamingroleplayer]

This might be very weird to say out loud but who cares you already know I'm insane

I've always been fascinated by the underlying reasons/appeals that brings someone to have a specific kink or fetish, and from what I've gathered a good deal of people here condier the snz stuff as a form of caring

-Or in general, the feeling of having someone in a distressed and helpless state, in this case because of a cold/allergy? That's the best way I can describe it and tbh I totally get it, but would LOVE to hear you guys' opinion on that!

Don't know how many are this view with me but, and I do say this seriously, I tend to see it as a kind of BDSM...? Not straight-up getting hurt, but in the case of sneezing more like the feeling of having something that's generally beautiful and alluring of someone (hair, flowers, perfumes etc) being capable of hurting his senses, make its way into someone's body and literally burn him from within, until the poor guy is a mess, left with his system broken and begging for relief or comfort. Fatefully attracted to that same person he is so sensitive to and suffering every time he gets a whiff of that intoxicating perfume or that silky hair grazes his nose.

I'm definitely NOT normal about this-

[accidentalmistress]

I wanted to try and write an excerpt of your characters as practice since I'm trying to write stories of my own and want to know if it's any good a little constructive criticism 😅😖

Orion sneezes loudly, and his tail starts moving wildly. It whips back and forth in the air, as Orion sneezes and his nose runs like a tap. He puts his hands over his nose and mouth, trying to stop the sneezes, but they just keep coming and coming, as well as the runny nose. Orion is trying to be quiet for Noelle, but his sneezes are just too loud, and his hands cannot hold all the snot in them.

First I want to say that I am so flattered that you want to write about my characters, anon! One of my biggest goals as a writer is to have people like my characters enough to make fan works of them, so thank you for making that happen!

As for constructive criticism (*puts on editor hat*):

This is perfectly fine as a first draft! The action is clear, it makes sense, and there aren't any major grammatical errors. There's some really evocative imagery as well, and overall it's a good scene.

I am going to give two pieces of advice, and this is just general writing advice that can be used for any creative writing.

(I apologize if any of this comes off as condescending. I really don't mean it that way! I just like talking about the craft of writing, and these are things that I, myself, had to learn to become a better writer.)

1) Unpack the adverbs.

In general, adverbs are -ly words, and some people in the writing sphere say that writers shouldn't use them at all. I think that's BS. In my opinion, adverbs are fine as long as they're used sparingly, like a seasoning. So what I mean by "unpacking" is to replace adverbs with more descriptive text. This is also known as "show, don't tell." As in, don't tell the reader what happens, show them what happens.

Let's take the opening sentence as an example:

"Oraion sneezes loudly, and his tail starts moving wildly."

There are two adverbs here: "loudly" and "wildly." How can we unpack those adverbs? How can we show that the sneeze is loud without telling the reader it's loud? A loud sound might echo, or you could compare it to another loud sound, like thunder. You could even combine the two:

"Oraion unleashes a thunderous sneeze that echoes throughout Noelle's tower. The force sends his tail swinging in a wild arc, like it has a mind of its own, and a stack of books clatters to the floor."

By using the comparison of saying his tail seems to have a mind of its own, as well as the imagery of the stack of books falling, we can also convey that wild motion without simply saying it moves wildly.

2) Incorporate feeling/emotion.

What's going on in Oraion's head while this is happening? He's trying to be quiet for Noelle, which is great as a motivation, but why? Is she sleeping? Is she working on some fiddly piece of magic that might go wrong if she's distracted? (One of the upcoming fics actually incorporates that concept!) It helps the reader get invested if they know why it's important to him.

How else can we add emotion? One way is to use more emotional language. (Literally when I am writing and editing, I almost always have a tab open to a thesaurus to provide better words than my brain can.) In the phrase "trying to stop the sneezes" the word "trying" could be replaced with something like "desperate." He's not just trying, he's desperate. It gives a glimpse into what he's feeling and also ratchets up the tension.

When he can't stop or control the volume, is he embarrassed? Frustrated? Alarmed? He could blush or scowl or swear to give the reader an idea of how he's reacting to all of this. Does he get grossed out by the mess in his hands? Also, how does it feel to him, literally? Does the tickle in his sinuses burn? Is it feathery? Is the mess he's holding warm? Slick? Using language that engages the five senses makes for more evocative writing.

Writing is a skill, and skills take time and work to develop. I mean, even now I still write some hot garbage that needs heavy editing afterwards. The best things you can do to be a better writer are to keep reading and keep writing.

Thank you for the ask, and happy writing!

[absolute-snzaster]

Hoiy shit, y'all, it's me actually answering a prompt! (Well, two prompts.) With a fic! (Well, a mini fic.) @victoriablackrose and @sniction-fiction , two of my greatest comrades in being hørny for W/itcher snz, were both so lovely as to send me prompts from this list, and I decided to combine them!

500ish words of pre-g/eraskier with sick!jask under the cut, for the prompts "sleepy sneezes", "shivery" and "concern". This is meant to be set in the same timeline as Not With That Cold (which I mean to add chapters to someday I swear I have drafts), but much earlier on. Gonna give slight mess and language warnings just in case but they're really barely there. LOTS of stuffy talk, so heads up if that is or isn't your thing. Hope y'all like it! 💕

If Jaskier’s wits had been any less dulled, he would have woken with a shout at the hulking presence looming over him like a ravenous wolf. As it was, however, he had spent the past several days doing battle with an all-consumingly horrid head cold, and every last one of his senses might have been stopped up with glue for all the good they were doing him. And so he merely stirred into vague half-consciousness and turned over in his bedroll, rubbing his interminably stuffy nose against a warm object that, if he really thought about it, hadn’t been there when he went to sleep.

“heh… ehhh… tssh’hew,” he sneezed as the tickle in his feverish nose spiked, irritated by something decidedly hirsute in its immediate presence. The presence moved, then, the warm rampart drawing away from the wet spray of his sneeze, and it was only then that Jaskier’s eyes cracked open enough to see the lumbering form above him.

“Mbelitele’s sacred tits, Geralt, what cad you possibly be doi’g.” His voice was a thin and reedy spectre of its usual melodious affront, his mind still too foggy and congested to properly startle. “‘s the biddle of the ‘dight. Why’re you leadi’g over be like I’b your dext ‘beal.”

Geralt grunted. “You were shivering.”

“I was s—” Jaskier stopped short in the middle of his usual sardonic repetition, stumbling into wakefulness as the realization dawned on him. “...I was shiveri’g. Oh.” He broke out into a positively delighted grin, one that Geralt recognized all too well even on a red nose, cracked lips and bleary eyes and dreaded all the same. “Why, Geralt, you great cake-hearted fool! You–hehh–you were—hehh’TCHEW!! You were cod’cerdned for be!” He gave a tremendous, self-satisfied sniff.

Geralt turned away with a grudging ‘hm’, and Jaskier swore he could almost see the Witcher’s face reddening in the dim glow of the firelight. “You were!” he crowed. “You care for be, Geralt, I kdew it all alo’gg,” he needled him, languidly poking a finger between his ribs.

“Don’t push it,” the Witcher scowled sullenly.

Jaskier held his hands up in surrender. “All right, all right, I yield,” he capitulated. “Sdf. You kdow, you’re dot wro’g. It r-really is cold out hehh-heh-EHHTSSCHIIEEWH!” He sneezed wetly, and began shivering again as if to illustrate the point. “Oh d-dear… I d-dod’t suppose you had adythi’g id bi’d to put ad e’d to this, did you.” He drew his bedroll tighter in around him, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. Geralt didn’t speak by way of reply. He merely grunted and eased himself down next to Jaskier, wrapping his muscle-bound arms around the shivering bard and pulling him back-first into his big, broad, blessedly warm barrel chest. “Not a word,” the Witcher muttered, stopping Jaskier’s bewildered gasp in its tracks, and while the sniffly bard did technically comply, he couldn’t help the groan of relief that slipped from the depths of his being as the heat—that unfaltering fire he’d always ached for but never had leave to touch—enveloped him.

As he began to drift off, awash in bliss as much as in congestion, Jaskier felt Geralt stir with an unspoken question behind him. “Yes, mby dear Witcher?” he prompted.

Geralt was silent for a moment. Then, “...cake-hearted?”

Jaskier scoffed reproachfully, turning it into a dramatic snuffle which served him all the same. “You mbustd’t laugh at mbe, Geralt. I have—ahhh–hah-hih’TISSH-IEW!—a terrible cold.”

[fuckin-sick-bih]

Quiet Night

Fandom: Marvel Summary: Bucky comes home with a cold and scares poor Steve who offers a quiet night CW: none? Word Count: 624 Author Note: Just somethin' small for someone havin' a bad time <3MINORS DNI

The door to Steve’s apartment opened and closed quick and quietly. If not for Bucky’s sniffling he would have been almost completely silent in his breaking into his boyfriend’s apartment. He was tucked into a coat and hat, still absolutely shivering beyond belief. Even his metal arm shook by proxy.

A clattering sound from the kitchen drew Bucky’s attention, clearly the sounds of Steve bustling away. It was domestic. Homey. It brought a smile to his lips, weary as it was.

Silently, Bucky moved through the apartment from the front door to the kitchen where he leaned casually against the doorframe to watch Steve at the stove for a moment. With his back turned to him, he had some song playing quietly from his phone on the counter. His hips were swaying to the beat as he hummed along, mumbling words here and there.

While waiting for the other to notice him, Bucky pulled off his hat and coat. With Steve’s back to him, he was able to get away with quite a lot if he was quiet. The music and Steve’s soft humming easily drowned out Bucky’s quiet sniffles. There was a dull tickling sensation in his sinuses that Bucky had been waiting on it to build all damn day. It seemed now was the time.

Bucky’s expression crumpled. His icy blues unfocused, his brows knit together, red and irritated nostrils flaring as he drew in a breath sharply. He lifted a hand to crush the knuckles of his right hand up against his nose just in time as he sneezed harshly.

“HehETTShoo! HiiEISHoo!”

“Jesus, Buck!”

The reaction from Steve was instantaneous, the blond jumping nearly a foot in the air and spilling a little of whatever it was he was making on the stove. Usually, Bucky could tell just by the smell of it, but not now. Especially not since those two sneezes seemed to have completely blocked up his sinuses instead of just making him a sniffly mess like he’d been all day.

With a thicker sniffle and another rub at his abused, red nose, Bucky replied. “Sorry. Snff. Bust be the spices.” He tried to lie but his voice was hardly better than a croak when it came out.

Steve raised his eyebrows at him and crossed his arms, “You sure about that? I lived with you for years. I know what your cold sneezes sound like.”

Another liquidy sniffle and Bucky waves his metal hand dismissively but not before his breath starts to catch again. “Heh… I’b fide, S-Steeeve- HiihDISHoo! Fit as a fiddle. Snfff.”

Steve turns down the heat on the stove and comes closer to press a hand to his forehead that Bucky can’t help but lean into. He’s exhausted if he’s being honest with himself. Instead of thinking too hard about it he just relishes the feeling of Steve’s hand.

“Not warm, but if you’re not careful-”

“Steeeve…” Bucky groans quietly, congestion strangling his boyfriend’s name awkwardly. “It’s a cold. I’ll be fi­-f-…fiiih… FiiEISHHoo! Eh… heh… HEHISHOO! Oh, by god. I’b sorry, Stevie, I sdeezed all over you.” He’s mortified, no matter how many times it’s happened in their times living together he’ll never get over the embarrassment of it.

But Steve just wears that stupid soft smile like always, his baby blues lighting up so brilliantly and lovingly. “Then it’s a good thing I’m making soup, huh? Butternut. Your favorite. Ma’s recipe even. C’mon Buck. We can put on a movie and cuddle on the couch, sound good.”

“Sou’ds fucki’g abazi’g, doll.” Bucky groans and slides his arms around Steve’s waist to press his face into his chest, sniffling as he resigns himself to being cared for by his boyfriend for the night.